Masterpiece
by 2remember
Summary: Every masterpiece had one flaw that defined it, one break from perfection that showed a human being had in fact produced it...


**Disclaimer: **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners, particularly the characters taken from the animated series, Code Lyoko. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Note: ** This story is a sequel to 'Then Jim Rode In.' It is set around the events of 'His Della Robbia.'

* * *

Lunchtime, that blessed interval between mornings and afternoons where one could rest, recharge and replenish one's mind, body and soul. A time where the gossip was sometimes hotter than the mashed potatoes... 

Suzanne Hertz and Yolande Perraudin were sitting in the Teacher's Lounge, eating lunch and discussing the hot topic of the day.

"So, any word on Mr. Delmas?" Yolande asked.

"No, no one's spoken to him since the Board met," Suzanne replied, "I tried talking to him last night, but he isn't answering his phone."

"I can't believe that Jean-Pierre has been embezzling," the nurse replied, "I mean, he's not the richest man in the world, but he surely doesn't need to be doing anything like that."

"Jean-Pierre Delmas would never stoop so low," Suzanne said, "he couldn't even be blackmailed into doing it. I agree with Desmond that someone is trying to frame him for this, and I hope they catch him real soon. But, I'm worried about him, Yolande."

"Yeah, the shutting the world out is a bad sign," she agreed, "and this subject is getting too depressing. So tell me, how's Jim these days? Has he been putting the lift in your step?"

The tone of Yolande's voice and the smirk on her face made the science teacher blush. "He's fine, thank you very much," she told her friend, "as a matter of fact, we're going out to dinner Monday night. He says he has a surprise for me."

"Ooooo, sounds promising. So, are you taking a vacation day Tuesday or are you just going to call in sick?"

"Will you stop that!" Suzanne exclaimed with a chuckle, "it's just two close friends spending a quiet dinner together."

"Two close friends who've been together for almost two years," Yolande replied, "and if this _is_ just another quiet dinner, then I'm going to find a way to lock the two of you in a closet until you finally figure it out that you're perfect together!"

Meanwhile, on the athletic field, Jim Moralés and Michel Rouiller were discussing much the same topic.

"Jim, don't you think it's about time you did something?" Michel asked his friend, "I mean, it's been almost two years, c'mon! I didn't wait that long with my wife!"

"I know, I know," Jim replied, "I just can't though. I wasn't raised that way, and I've seen other guys jump between the sheets with some gal he thought he liked, only to have it blow up in his face later. And some of those times were real bad, let me tell you."

"But this is different! You know Suzanne is crazy about you, and you're crazy about her! I happen to know that if you ask, she won't say no. More than likely, she'll say 'well it's about time!'"

Jim laughed at that. "I know, which is why I've been the gentleman. I just know she's the right one for me, but if I go charging headlong, I could lose her as a friend, not just as a lover."

"I would have never thought of you being so old fashioned, my friend," Michel said.

* * *

On Monday, Suzanne prepared for her date with extra care. School was out for the summer and most of the students had gone home. Jean-Pierre was still holed up in the Principal's Residence, speaking to no one other then the police. 

Suzanne had bought a new dress for the evening. It had been a long time since she had splurged on such a thing, and she enjoyed the experience. I was a black dress that fell to just above her knee, with a wide open collar and short sleeves. She added a silver and gold wrap and thought it was perfect for the evening.

The most aggravating part was the waiting. Their reservations were for 9pm, so that gave Suzanne plenty of time to think.

She had been dating Jim for almost two years now. He had helped her through a rough time when her ex-husband, Clark, had tried to kill her. At the time, she was so rattled, she never even though about not accepting his help. And when the dust finally settled, the man she became fond of didn't just disappear in a puff of machismo; he stayed the same, gentle oaf he had always been. He never forced his attention or his company on her, but he was always there. They would go out, have dinner, maybe see a movie, then he would bring her home and bid her goodnight. On more than one occasion, she had invited him in for a nightcap, or breakfast, or both and whatever would come in between, but he declined, saying it wasn't time yet. Most of the time, she accepted that; other times, she cried herself asleep wondering what was wrong with her.

When she wasn't so jumbled up emotionally, Suzanne thought long and hard about the man she involved herself with. Jim Moralés could be loud and a braggart, dumb as a post and as useful as an anvil to a drowning man, but never to her. When he was with her, he was toned down and self-depreciating. If he could help her with something, anything, he would do it. If he couldn't, he stayed out of her way. And though he did brag about things to others around the school, he never bragged about their relationship. He never hid it, but he never exaggerated it either. She had never heard of him talking up his conquests, of her or anyone else. As a matter of fact, some of the teachers had wondered whether or not Jim was gay, a rumor that died on the night of the Autumn Harvest Dance just after they got together. More than once, one of her girlfriends would ask how he was in the saddle, and she would just smile and say, "when I find out, I'll keep it to myself."

The other thing she thought a lot about was herself. Was she really ready to have another man in her life? The first one, her ex-husband, had been a disaster. He had slept around on her throughout their entire relationship. Then, after making her life miserable for ten years, he popped back into her life, blaming her for all of his troubles, and tried to kill her, kidnapping and torturing an innocent student in the process. The last thing Suzanne wanted to do is hook up with another man who would do her the same way. But Jim was nothing like that. Even before they got together, playboy was never a word she would have used to describe him. Jim was about as normal as anyone else she knew.

The thing that frightened Suzanne the most was the commitment. After her divorce, she had gotten used to the independence she had. She wasn't sure if she was ready to have another person in her life, another presence in her bed, another set of toiletries in her bathroom, other clothes in her closet. She wasn't sure if she was ready to step around another body in her home, trip over his shoes, rifle through his sumo magazines to find hers. She wasn't sure if she was ready to give up the ability to head off for a long weekend on a moment's notice, never mind the fact she had never done that.

One thing Suzanne was sure of though, she wasn't ready to dump Jim from her life, either. He added something to her, made her a little more than she was without him. It was like there was a hole in her life, and Jim was just the right fit. Not an exact fit, that would be too perfect, too suspicious. Every masterpiece had one flaw that defined it; one break from perfection that showed a human being had in fact produced it. Jim Moralés was a walking bundle of flaws, but she had thought that, flaws and all, maybe he was the one that completed all of the jumbled parts of her own life.

And tonight, he had a surprise for her.

* * *

He picked her up at 8:30 that evening. When she opened the door, she almost gasped at what she saw; Jim was actually wearing a new suit. She had seen just about everything the man had to wear, but she had never seen this before. It was a dark charcoal gray, with a white shirt and a red tie. He had dispensed with his usual headband and somehow managed to beat his hair from its normally wild spray into something almost presentable. He was cleanshaven, and had forgone the band-aid he normally wore under his left eye. The scar that he normally hid actually gave him a little character, and reminded her that he would literally place himself in harm's way for her. 

He looked a moment at her, his eyes wide in surprise. "Wow, Suzanne, you look beautiful tonight," he told her.

"Thank you," she replied, "and you look very handsome, too."

He walked in and handed her the roses he had brought. She thanked him with a kiss on his cheek, then went to put them in water.

"Not to rush things along, but we need to get going," he told her, "our reservations are for nine o'clock, and I've never been there before."

"Oh, where are we going?" she asked from the kitchen.

"Dellucci's," was his response.

"Oh, I haven't been there in years!" she replied, "I never told you this, but Jean-Pierre took me there for dinner when I first came to Kadic."

"Oh really? I never knew you were involved with Jean-Pierre?"

"I wasn't, really. I was new in town and didn't know anybody. He invited me out to join him and his daughter for dinner, and that's where we went."

"Well, if he was with Sissi, I'll bet it was her birthday," Jim said, "Jean-Pierre always takes her out somewhere nice for her birthday."

"As a matter of fact, I think it was," she replied, "but one thing I noticed, even though he smiled and laughed, there was a sadness in his eyes. I always wondered why."

"Well, we'd better get going," Jim said.

The drive to Dellucci's was quiet. Jim was concentrating on the road, making sure he didn't miss the place. Suzanne sat back and thought. Dellucci's was a fairly upscale place, if she remembered correctly. She had never been to such a place with him before, so she suspected that something was up.

They arrived at the restaurant and an attendant opened the door for Suzanne and helped her out of the car. Jim emerged from the driver's side and gave the keys to the valet, receiving a claim ticket in its place. He joined Suzanne, wrapped his arm around her, and escorted her inside.

Dellucci's was as beautiful as Suzanne had remembered it. It was brightly lit, with beautiful wood work on the walls, brilliant chandeliers on the ceiling pouring light down on tables meticulously prepared for guests. The maitre'd escorted them to a table, where Jim seated Suzanne before sitting himself. They were given menus, then left alone to choose their meal.

The dinner was perfect. Jim admitted he didn't know the first thing about ordering in such a fancy place, so Suzanne ordered for the both of them. The salads were just right, the soup just the right temperature. She ordered the chicken parmesan while he had seafood ravioli in red sauce. The wine served was perfect for each of their dishes, and complemented them well. Dessert was sherbet and coffee. Everything was just right.

Jim was the perfect gentleman the entire time. No slurps, no burps or other noxious outgasings; he used the right silverware at the right time, put his napkin in his lap instead of tucked in his collar. He made small talk, asking her about her day and her weekend, knowing full well how they went, since she had spent a good deal of the time with him.

An added delight came, not from him, but from the front door. About thirty minutes after they arrived, who should appear but Jean-Pierre Delmas; the hermit had finally emerged from his cave! He was looking a little haggard, like coming here was a sudden decision, and he had company with him. His daughter Sissi was with him, along with Odd Della Robbia of all people. The boy looked out of place in his purple getup, causing a lot of the patrons to stare at him. But the maitre'd said nothing; he just escorted them to a table. Neither Jean-Pierre or the two teens noticed Jim and Suzanne sitting there watching them.

"Well, I'm glad that whatever was going on with Jean-Pierre has passed," Suzanne said, "I was starting to get a little worried."

"Ah, I was never worried about him," Jim replied, "now, if he forgot about Sissi's birthday, then I'd be worried. But he never forgets that, never."

"Do you happen to know why?" she asked.

"Yeah, as a matter of fact I do. You see, Sissi's mother died giving birth to her. So, when he takes her to dinner to celebrate her birthday, he's also remembering his wife. The day he forgets about her is the day you can call for the guys with the canvas overcoats, 'cause Jean-Pierre has lost it."

Finally, the waiter arrived with the bill. Jim took the check, looked briefly at it, then reached in his jacket for his wallet. He pulled it out, opened it, then his face changed to one of surprise. He stared at the object a little longer, then looked up, his face turning red from embarrassment.

"Uh, Suzie? You wouldn't happen to have any money on you, would ya? I seemed to have run off without mine."

* * *

It was 3am before she got back home. Of course she didn't have any money with her, Jim was supposed to cover the evening! There was a small scene involving them, the matre'd, the owner, and several large and burly busboys, and the unfortunate couple wound up spending the rest of the evening washing dishes. 

The water was close to scalding, and whatever they were using for dishwashing soap was almost corrosive. Fortunately, Suzanne had worked with dangerous chemicals in science class, and insisted on gloves. Jim just hung his head down low and plunged his bare hands in the mixture.

When the restaurant closed, the owner came and told them that if he were in his right mind, he would impound Jim's car until he made good on the bill, but since it was so late, he would let the couple go on the condition that they never return. They agreed and slunk out the door and home.

The drive back was silent. Jim just watched the road, a look of ultimate defeat on his face. Suzanne sat silently, alternating between embarrassment and laughter. Oh, she was definitely mad at him for their predicament, and embarrassed that it happened to her. But she had to admit, the situation was funny. She knew she would laugh about it later on; it was only painful right this moment.

They finally got back to her place and he escorted her to her apartment. She unlocked then opened the door, then walked just inside the threshold, turned around and faced him. He looked like a man fully expecting to be shot.

"Suzanne, I'm truly sorry about this," he began, but she stopped him.

"Jim, I know you are," she said, "I know it wasn't your fault; I'm just upset right now. This will all blow over tomorrow, don't you worry. I should have expected something like this, really, the evening was just too perfect."

"I would never do something like this to you, you've got to believe me! I wanted tonight to be extra special, because I wanted to give you something."

He fumbled in his pockets a moment, then brought out a small velvet box. He opened it up and there inside was a diamond engagement ring, one well beyond his means to afford. Suzanne didn't even have to look long at it to know it was a high quality stone, much more expensive than the two months salary that was the rule-of-thumb for such purchases.

"I can't promise you I won't screw up again, but I do promise I will never knowingly hurt you, and if somehow I do, I will bend Heaven and Earth to make things right. Will you marry me?"

She looked up from the ring to his face. He had a look of fear, mixed with hope; afraid he had messed up so badly that she wouldn't have anything more to do with him; hoping that maybe, somewhere deep inside, she could look past tonight's mistake and see he needed her.

He was an idiot. He was a braggart. He was every bad thing one could associate with the work 'jock.' And he was a gentleman, a knight in somewhat tarnished armor, and she was certain he would crawl naked through ground glass for her.

He was the part that fit in her life just right; not perfectly, but good enough that love and little glue could make it perfect. He was the flaw that made her life a masterpiece once again, just as she was the perfection that surrounded and compensated for all of his flaws and made him whole. She smiled at him as what anger burned inside of her fizzled out and died.

She grabbed his suit lapel and pulled him inside. As she shut the door behind him, she said, "why don't you come inside so I can properly give you my answer. It will only take the rest of our lives."


End file.
